


La Petite Mort

by thesecretdoor



Category: Johnny's Jr., SixTONES (Band)
Genre: LSD, M/M, Mild Gore, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2019-01-09 23:06:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12286125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesecretdoor/pseuds/thesecretdoor
Summary: Taiga has a hard time getting over Rudolph, Shirota comes to the rescue.





	La Petite Mort

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this months ago and I don't know if Taiga being recast in Elisabeth makes it more or less relevant. Either way, here it is! Also I know Shirota's character in the play is referred to as Tod or something close to it, but I'll be referring to him by his literal name 'Death' (Tod is death in German) since it's more fitting.

>  
Taiga has played complicated characters before, he’s played characters with serious emotional scarring and he’s played characters that have died, but he’s never played a character that has stayed with him the way Rudolph is. It’s been weeks since his final show and yet the dark cloud he’d shielded himself under as he was getting into his role is present as ever.  
  
He thinks it’s about closure, that makes the most sense, but the shows are over he’s died his final death as Rudolph, he’s bowed his thanks at the final curtain call, what more closure can he expect to find?  
  
The after party, he convinces himself. Maybe if he attends the after party and sees the rest of the cast, back to their normal selves, maybe then he’ll be able to let go of Rudolph. Maybe when he sees Furukawa-san in his own shoes Taiga will be able to feel like he’s back in his own shoes too.  
  
It doesn’t work. The night of the after party finally arrives and Taiga drags himself along but instead of mingling with his fellow cast and staff, Taiga finds himself irritable and confused, lonely even, he still feels like Rudolph.  
  
“Taiga-kun.” A deep, almost comforting voice says, catching Taiga off-guard, he’s hiding in the corner of the sofa beside a potted plant, the most inconspicuous place he could find.  
  
“Shirota-san.” Taiga answers politely, bowing. “It’s been a pleasure working with you.”  
  
Shirota looks at him for a long moment and then sighs, coming to sit on the sofa beside Taiga. “Is everything OK?”  
  
Taiga tries to keep his face calm and collected. “Everything’s fine.”  
  
Shirota frowns a little. “Ok, I’ll re-phrase that. I know something is wrong, is there anything I can do to help?” Taiga doesn’t know how to answer, he’s flattered that Shirota cares enough to want to help but his problem is rather ridiculous. When Taiga doesn’t answer, Shirota continues. “What? You don’t trust me enough to talk to me?”  
  
“It’s not that.” Taiga answers quickly. “I do.” And he does, Shirota has been helpful and kind since the first day they met. “It’s just that it’s a silly thing…”  
  
“Try me…” Shirota prompts kindly.  
  
Taiga takes a breath as he tries to think how to word it. “You’ve played a lot of characters Shirota-san, have there ever been any that you just couldn’t shake off once you’d finished playing them? Like they felt…like they weren’t done with you yet”  
  
“I think to some degree I think about all of my characters after I'm done playing them. Once you've been inside somebody else's mind it's hard to forget what that's like, I can’t say that it’s really affected my daily life though. Is that the trouble?”  
  
Taiga nods a little, that’s part of it. “While I was preparing for Rudolph’s role, I cut myself off from my friends and my family, I thought that if I tried to understand Rudolph’s feelings it would be easier to play him, and it was…just now that I don’t need to play him, I’m having trouble getting out of that mind-set, and I thought maybe it was about closure?”  
  
“Closure?” Shirota prods.  
  
Taiga has to think carefully, because there don’t seem to be words for that uncomfortable feeling in his chest. “Rudolph is dead...but it still feels so incomplete. On my level...like I somehow did it wrong...I feel unsatisfied...like...”  
  
“Like he's still alive?” Shirota asks.  
  
“Maybe not alive...but it just doesn't feel like he really died either...”  
  
Shirota hums, but there's understanding in his eyes. “I don’t think the problem is that Rudolph isn’t really dead...I think the problem is that you aren't. You put yourself in his place, you think like him, you act like him and more importantly you feel like him. But when that moment comes. When you kiss death and pull the trigger...in your mind you fall with him but only there. When the lights go out you're lying there on the floor still breathing. Death is Rudolph's climax...but you don't get to feel that, you can only pretend.”  
  
“I'm not suicidal...” Taiga says a little defensively, but only because Shirota is making perfect sense and he doesn't see how he can possibly get around that.  
  
Shirota smiles warmly. “I'm not saying that you are. I'm just saying that I think this dissatisfaction you're feeling is because you haven't had any kind of release along with him...”  
  
“But that's impossible isn't it? How do I get over the way I'm feeling if I can't do anything about it?” Taiga asks, demanding almost and Shirota actually seems to consider it carefully for a few moments.  
  
“I think I can help you...but you're going to have to trust me.” Shirota says, and his expression is serious. “For you to get the most out of this, you're going to have to trust me blindly.”  
  
“I trust you.” Taiga says, and even if he's incredibly nervous it's the truth.  
  
“How much?” Shirota asks, his eyes imploring, almost seductive.  
  
“With my life.” Taiga answers and Shirota's face splits into Death's smirk. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small tin, and from it he retrieves a tiny piece of paper. Taiga doesn't realise what it is until Shirota pops on it onto his own tongue, and then he looks questioningly at Taiga as he leans in.  
  
Taiga takes a leap, leaning in to kiss Shirota back and when their tongues meet the paper is transferred to Taiga's mouth. Shirota groans ever so softly as he kisses Taiga again, just once, then a hard press of lips and he's pulling away. “Put it under your tongue.” he whispers and when Taiga has done as instructed, Shirota takes his hand and leads him quickly from the room.  
  
“Where are we going?” Taiga asks in a whisper when they sneak along the hallway and out of the back exit.  
  
Shirota turns to him and cups Taiga's face in his hands, leaning down to look directly into his eyes. “This is really important ok? Do not move from this spot. Stay right here, I'll be right back.” Taiga nods as much as he can with his head still held tightly. “Where is your bag?”  
  
“The brown one, in the back corner of the dressing room.” Shirota nods and lets go of his face.  
  
“Ok. I'll only be a few minutes. While I'm gone, I need you to call your parents and tell them that I'm taking you out for a meal, and that if it's late when we're done you'll stay at my place tonight. Ok?”  
  
Taiga once again does as he's instructed. It's his father that answers, and having met Shirota himself on a number of occasions, is only thrilled about Taiga spending time with him now that the play is over.  
  
When Shirota comes back he hands over Taiga's bag and leads him to a sleek sports car and he throws his own bag and a duffle bag into the boot before opening the passenger door for Taiga and then climbing into the driver’s seat.  
  
The drive back to Shirota's place is long, and a little way before they arrive Shirota turns down the music to speak to him. “You're going to start feeling it pretty soon. Just remember to relax, and that you're safe, it will wear off in a couple of hours.”  
  
Taiga nods, and for the first time he starts to feel a little scared about what he's doing, only then he gets distracted by the street lights which are starting to leave dusty trails behind them as they pass.  
  
Even the paving slabs are fascinating as they get out of the car and head up to Shirota's front door. And then everything is dark, and Shirota flicks on a lamp and starts digging through the duffle bag.  
  
He recognises his costume with a smile as Shirota pulls each piece from the bag and helps him to change into it. When he's done he stands and watches as Shirota pulls his own costume out and changes into it before retrieving one last item from it – Rudolph's gun.  
  
“Take my hand.” Death says, and Taiga takes it.  
  
They go through a door somewhere along a dark corridor and there are steps down, each one of which crumbles away after he’s stepped on it. When they reach the bottom Taiga looks around not even really taking anything in until his eyes rest on Death. His whole chest feels like it’s expanding, he feels relieved, Death, his old friend, right when he’s needed most. It’s familiar, and comforting and exciting.  
  
“Please.” Taiga begs, or at least he thinks he does, it could be Rudolph, or maybe it's both of them because right now he feels like he's on stage. Only the audience isn't there, and neither is the stage, it's just Death, and him, and he is Rudolph.  
  
Death steps closer and Rudolph’s heart hammers as warm hands come to rest on his hips and he shudders as he feels them caressing him, even when he can see they’re held still. “Dance with me.” Death asks, commands maybe only his voice is soft, velveteen, seductive.  
  
The hands move him around at first, urging him this way or that but his body knows the steps and it soon complies. He twists and turns, spinning in Death’s hold and he can feel the heat rising up in him, burning him so completely that his skin is slick with it. It’s so hot they might be in hell already.  
  
As Rudolph dances around the room, the shadows on the walls dance with him and he can’t even tell if they’re people or demons, death’s minions. There are flames too, licking at his skin and Death’s hands scorch him everywhere they touch, skirting touches down his sides, firm ones grounding him and then they spring apart.  
  
There should be a gun. Rudolph reaches out for it, but it isn’t there, only Death’s expectant expression. “It’s not going to be that easy this time, Sweet Prince.”  
  
Death pushes him away, shoving hard enough that Rudolph staggers back, the room spinning around him as his feet find only uncertainty and then his back makes contact with something solid that could be a wall or may be the floor.  
  
Whatever it is, Rudolph suspects it’s made from red hot iron, the solidity burning him as much as comforting him and then Death is right there, pressing in again and Rudolph can feel the sweat dripping from his hair.  
  
“It’s so hot.” Rudolph chokes out, the air too thin, it’s warm and stale and he sucks down rattling breaths as he clutches the front of his jacket. Death obliges, tearing it open and Rudolph inhales sharply as Death helps him to shrug out of it.  
  
Death moves to his shirt next, wrenching open the buttons as far down as he can before Rudolph’s shirt disappears beneath his trousers. He wants those off too, they’re too warm, too tight and they only get tighter as Death’s hand splays against the naked skin of his chest.  
  
The touch burns, but not as much as the claws. Rudolph watches as Death’s nails scrape down his chest splitting his skin apart, tearing him apart as his back arches into it. He gasps. The pain and the pleasure seeping together, swirling, making him dizzy and he tugs at his shirt, baring more flesh.  
  
His hands grapple for purchase as Death leans in to lick the wounds, agonisingly sweet, his lips shimmering with blood. “I can feel how much you want me.” Death whispers his hand pressing into Rudolph’s crotch and it only makes everything so much more, so unbearable that Rudolph’s eyes clench closed. “Open your eyes sweet Prince.” Death commands so softly it almost hurts and Rudolph obeys. “I want to watch you falling.”  
  
Rudolph cries out, everything inside him shaking, breaking him apart and his hips push up on instinct as his torn chest expands with the force of a moan. It can’t be real, somewhere in the back of his mind Taiga knows that. He’s an idol, it wouldn’t do for another celebrity to cause him grievous bodily harm, it has to be the drugs.  
  
Only there are no drugs, the only drug is death and Taiga is Rudolph and he can feel his bed beneath him, cold metal in Death’s hand as he grips it, grounding him as his hips grind furiously upwards.  
  
His chest hurts, not just the open wounds that seep blood into his shirt, it’s deeper than that. It’s a lifetime of sorrow and loneliness building up right there, the heat of it pooling inside him, and it could be sweat but it’s more likely tears that stream down Rudolph’s face.  
  
“Take me.” He cries, begs, because it’s what he wants, what he needs desperately, and his heart is skipping beats, so close to giving up. He wants it so much that he can’t breathe, that his pleas come out as sobs, his cries just shuddering breaths that wrack his whole body as Death presses hard against him, there, solid, scorching.  
  
“Are you close sweet Prince?” Death asks, raising the pistol in his free hand to Rudolph's temple.  
  
Rudolph nods, so close to the edge of abyss.  
  
“Do you know what they call it in France?” Death asks. “La petite mort” and he continues in a whisper as he leans in close. “The little death.”  
  
Death's lip enclose his, and Taiga's world explodes into white with the sound of the gunshot. La petite mort.

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Is it weird that I'm totally shipping TaigaxShirota right now? If anyone knows of any other TaigaxShirota or RudolphxTod fics, please do send links my way!!!


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